


This Itch, It's In My Heart

by Enchantedtalisman



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Knotting, M/M, Mates, Possessive Behavior, Scent Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 03:31:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantedtalisman/pseuds/Enchantedtalisman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boyd's not sure what was missing inside his mind, something important, until he breathes in that scent that makes his wolf calm and his mind go fuzzy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Itch, It's In My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Er, this was just supposed to be porn. And Boyd/Stiles porn. I'm not sure if I like the resulting product or not. But I figured after writing it all out I might as well post it. 
> 
> (As always comments appreciated...and Unbeta-ed as normal.)

            Boyd has felt different while a werewolf, well of course for the obvious reasons; enhanced senses, the ability to move faster and push harder than he ever has. But there’s something else that tickles in the back of his mind, which calms his wolf whenever he’s around the pack.

            It itches something fierce that he can’t figure this out. He’s good at observing, and viewing the world from an angle, but it’s as if all his ingrained habits fly out of the window during pack time. It’s especially apparent when he gets a whiff of that scent.

            Derek’s there, far more calm now than before, and approachable. He’s not exactly changed but perhaps opened up to them: Scott, Allison, Erica, and Boyd far more slowly than the rest of the pack.

            Boyd can’t talk to him though, he’s always been alone, and the pack has helped but telling him that he smells something that makes his wolf go calm? It sounds stupid in his own head.

            By the time the next pack meeting comes around he’s tried putting it out of mind, but failed spectacularly.

            Then it _is_ the meeting(or cuddle party if anyone asks Stiles) and Boyd spends the majority distracted in a haze that’s far stronger than normal. He sniffs and it makes him feel stupid that he didn’t realize earlier—he can sniff everyone. It wasn’t exactly _normal_ for their pack to sniff eachother, at least not unless they were already interested in each other, but Boyd rather thought he could do subtle. He’s the best out of it compared to the rest of the wolves.

            Boyd smells Erica, leaning against him and practically asleep, first. It’s faint, that scent that practically makes him want to purr, but it’s not Erica. He’s almost disappointed.

            Erica is smart, powerful in her own right as a werewolf, and he can say that he’s had a few fantasies before—it’s hard not too in this pack.

            Boyd tries taking a whiff of the room in general. The smells everywhere in the house but now it’s far more concentrated, and it takes him a few minutes to realize it’s coming from his right.

            Stiles and Scott are the only ones there, and he leans in and it’s right then that he loses track of time for a second.

            “Uh-Boyd.” Stiles stutters, and wiggles under him.

            Boyd stares up at him from where his nose is firmly pressed against Stiles’ arm, next to his armpit. That scent, he feels his cock twitch.

            Erica and Isaac are laughing, he can hear it faintly as if all his nerves rerouted to his nose and eyes.

            Stiles is flushed, his pretty eyes wide, and his mouth a flash of pink.

            Boyd stands up and grunts, “ _Bathroom._ ” He knows he’s running away but he’s never lost control like this before; it reminds him painfully of the first time he lost control. He had almost killed a young girl. He feels bile at the end of his throat and barely reaches the toilet before he’s retching.

            Boyd wipes his mouth and leans against the counter, trying to catch his breath. He wonders grimly if he’s going rogue, if Stiles’ smells so good because his wolf is rabid and hungry. He clenches a fist against his stomach and tries not to puke again.

            “Something you want to talk about, Boyd?” Derek’s voice, and if Boyd didn’t feel queasy he would make a joke about how Derek never comes to them.

            “Stiles smells.” The younger were sighs and glances up, “Am I rabid?” Boyd clenches his hands into fists and a second too late he registers the pain of his claws digging into his palms. He loosens them and watches the blood drip before the wounds heal.

            Derek walks up to him and sits down next to him. “You’re not going rabid.”

            Boyd frowns, “Are you going to explain then?” He grimaces and rubs at his mouth; he needs to brush the rancid taste out.

            Derek laughs, it’s one of the few times Boyd’s ever heard it, “You’re smelling your mate, it’s obvious your wolf wants Stiles.”

            Boyd pauses, he’s never thought of himself as gay—maybe bi if Jackson and Derek are shirtless and they are every other training session. “Stiles? My wolf chose Stiles?” He shakes his head, “No.”

            Derek raises his eyebrows, “You’re wolf thinks he’s good for you. It’s not really your choice, and the longer you’re a were the more you’ll agree with your wolf.” He stops smiling and looks away, “Sometimes you’ll ignore it and wish you hadn’t.” He stood up and brushed his fingers across his ass, “Now no one in the pack is going to say anything,” He says it a bit louder so all of the wolves in the house can hear, “It’s your choice.”

            Boyd watches him go and can’t help feeling both elated (his wolf for getting permission from his Alpha) and dread (him).

~`~

            The packs mostly quiet and sleepy by the time Boyd comes back. He knows Erica and Stiles like to spread their limbs when they have a space so it’s suspicious that the space he had been sitting is just occupied by Stiles legs. Boyd sighs but takes the seat and doesn’t mention that he’ll get Erica for this—next training session will be payback enough.

            Stiles barely moves his legs and glances at Boyd, “Freaky werewolf stuff?” He flings a hand out, and almost hits Scott, “You better not be sniffing me to see if you can eat me. I will set Scott on your ass.”

            Boyd grunts and damn that smell is far too distracting to argue with Stiles properly.

            Stiles frowns, waits for a few moments before sighing and turning back to the movie, “You’re no fun today.”

            Boyd sits there for the rest of the night and can’t help the pleasure and frustration of having Stiles so close. Maybe it’s because Derek told him it’s nothing bad that he doesn’t notice until everyone starts heading home or upstairs that he has a hand over Stiles’ feet.

            Stiles looks at him sleepily and grins, “If you keep doing that massage thing I think I’ll fall asleep here.” He doesn’t pull away though.

            Boyd frowns and snatches his hand away, “Right, you should go home.”

            “You should go with him, make sure he doesn’t crash into a hydrant.” Erica, fuckin Erica, smiles at Boyd like a cat.

            Boyd glares, but his wolf wants, and the incessant need that thrums inside his mind makes him almost say yes.

            “Shut up Erica.” Stiles grins, and rolls his eyes. “I’m good to go.” He yawns, tries to stand and almost falls over.

            Erica raises a brow.

            “Fine.” Boyd stands and grabs Stiles by an elbow. “Let’s go.”

            Stiles grumbles but he must be tired because he just goes with it. He waves at the rest of the pack and disappears out the door.

            Boyd glares at Erica one last time before following.  It’s cold outside. The moon is already out, and bright to his improved sight. His wolf, if it wasn’t distracted by Stiles and his scent, would be itching to come out.

            “Come on, Boyd. It’s freezing out here.” Stiles huddles in the driver’s seat and glares out the window at him.

            Boyd smirks, the one that always annoys Stiles, and climbs into the passenger seat.

            Stiles turns on the heat and the sudden air raises old musky scent that’s all Stiles.

            It takes every bit of control that Derek’s taught them for Boyd to not take Stiles right there and then. He relaxes into the seat and tries to ignore his aching cock, pressed firmly against the side of his jeans.

            Stiles glances at Boyd, “You sure you’re okay, Boyd? You look a little dazed.”

            Boyd grunts, wishing that he’d worn a hoodie or something to cover his crotch properly. He vaguely thinks about just pulling out his cock and stroking it, and then that’s when it hits him that Derek probably should have kept him away from Stiles until he could think straight. He clenches his thighs until they hurt.

            Stiles chatters throughout the drive. His voice is quiet as if he’s just doing it too keep himself up and not to actually converse.

            Boyd listens anyway. He’s not a talker—not like Stiles, but he gives a few comments here and there, and by the time Stiles’ house is in view Boyd’s hard on is just on the peripheral of his thoughts.

            Stiles slips out of the car and opens the door to his house, glances back at Boyd and rolls his eyes, “Are you coming in? It’s late; you can get back to your pack of menacing wolves in the morning.”

            Boyd follows, a little nervously and part of him empathetically stating this is a _bad_ idea. He ignores that in favor of watching Stiles’ ass walk up the stairs and into his room.

            “So, I have a sleeping bag somewhere around here, but Scott always hates the floor.” Stiles glances at Boyd.

            Boyd shrugs, “We could sleep on the bed,” His dick twitches and he’s glad that Stiles hasn’t turned on any of the lights.

            Stiles nods, “Okay, I wasn’t sure if you were comfortable with that.” He turns and starts stripping off his shirt and pants. He leaves his tight boxer briefs on and lies on the bed.

            Boyd licks his lips and feels his wolf push at the edge of his mind. His teeth ache and his claws come out. He shakes his head and inhales, but it just makes it worse; he can smell Stiles’ cum, sweat, and musk all over the room. He groans.

            “Boyd?” Stiles blinks, sitting up, his heart spiking.

            Boyd doesn’t remember tearing off his own pants and boxers, or climbing on top of Stiles, “I want to fuck you.”

            “That’s—well a bit forward, maybe we should give mutual handjobs. A few kisses you--”

            Boyd presses his mouth against Stiles, cutting him off, and licks into that sweet mouth. He wants to rut into Stiles, mark across his body that it’s _his boy_ here.

Stiles moans, surprised and hands frantically pressing on Boyd’s shoulders. He breaks the kiss first, and pants against Boyd’s lips, “I-Boyd…” He pauses and shakes his head before pressing his lips back against Boyd.

            Boyd growls pleased that his mate wants this. His wolf and human side are hard to distinguish now. He slides his claws across Stiles’ briefs, cutting them away and the scent of his mate’s cock hits him hard. He ruts against the tattered shreds and groans.

            Stiles yelps, slapping Boyd’s hands, “Dammit Boyd, warn a guy.” His legs are already wrapping around Boyd’s hips though, and his dick head is wet.

            “I’m going to fuck you and fill you with my cock.” Boyd grunts, and loves the slide of their dicks together, the feel of his balls against Stiles’ own pair; he knows it’s not a big deal but being bigger than his mate there makes his wolf proud.

            Stiles scrambles for something with his right hand and raises it a few seconds later. “Not without lube, dude.”

            Boyd rolls his eyes and rocks his hips into Stiles.

Stiles lets out a little gasp, “ _fuck._ ” He cums in spurts across his chest, eyes wide in the dark and legs going limp around Boyd’s hips.

Boyd growls, squeezing the base of his cock with one hand to stop himself from coming, it’s hard with the scent of his mate. He pops the lube open—barely able to with his claws still out—and pours the slick on Stiles’ hand, “You’re going to have to finger yourself open for me.”

Stiles moves a hand between them and presses against his hole, firmly and grunting. His cock twitches for a second, “I’m sensitive.” He whines, pulling out his finger and rubbing against his hole.

The werewolf watches his b-Stiles’ pretty little hole and his mate’s fingers work it.It makes a shiver run down his spine. “You don’t want me to fuck you than?” Boyd slaps his cock against Stiles’ perineum.

            Stiles scowls, but he smells like lust again, stronger than last time.

            “You liked that.” Boyd laughs, tries to bite it back because he can’t remember if the Sheriff was in or not. He slaps his cock against Stiles’ taint again; and there’s a burst of arousal.

            Stiles legs spread a little further and he flushes. “Maybe.” His finger slides back in and he lets out a _oh_.

            Boyd lifts Stiles by his thighs and stares at his hole, “Add another.”

            The younger teen is staring right at Boyd, his cock growing hard again, he pulls out his first finger and presses two against his hole, “Like this?” Stiles voice is nervous even though he grins wide.

            “Faster”

            Stiles fucks himself, slipping and sliding into his hole. The tips of his fingers catch the rim on every other exit and shows a hint of pink inside.

            Boyd feels his balls tighten and it’s only that that makes him shove a lubed hand around his cock—hissing when his claws get too close. He presses the head against Stiles’ fingers, “Do you want it?”

            “Don’t be a fucking tease, Boyd. I’ve wanted to lose my v-card to half the pack.” Stiles pulls out his fingers with a slick sound, lube making his hole pink and wet.

            Boyd shoves his cock head into Stiles, making his mate gasp, “Mine.”

            The younger teen covers his face with an arm, “This is a wolf thing isn’t it? That’s why you wanted to fuck me?” Stiles sounds disappointed.

            Boyd grunts, slowly pulling out and back in, unbelievably turned on by seeing the head of his dick part Stiles’ hole, “Part of it.” He says, knowing the honesty will hurt his mate, “But I want _you_. You smell good to me, you’re good for me.”

            Stiles snorts, and rocks into Boyds cock, until he’s taking half of it with little gasps and hiccups of laughter, “I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to say something sappy instead of the truth until after the first time.”

            Boyd leans down over Stiles. The wolf howls, pleased that he’s covering his mate, and fucking him. His cock slips a little further into that tight passage, “I’ll fuck you and then buy you dinner, and then fuck you in the car again, how’s that for a good time?” He thrusts and it only takes him a clench of Stiles’ walls for him to cum. A thickening at the base of his cock stopping him.

            “Oh my God.” Stiles arches into it, and his hand fisted around his hard cock. “Fuck.”

            Boyd squeezes Stiles’ hand and almost frantically working his knot—and of course werewolves have a fuckin’ knot. (As if his life doesn’t have enough weird shit to deal with.)

            Stiles doesn’t seem to mind, moaning and cumming again all over their chests. “Fuck is that your knot? Erica said Isaac gets one.” He wiggles and moans. “I wonder how big it gets.”

            Boyd growls, the clench and squeeze that Stiles keeps doing making his cock twitch and drip cum. It’s like mini-orgasms rack his body, and he curls his body around Stiles. “Erica told you what?”

            “She told me about Isaac’s knot. Amazingly hot knot. Ha-that rhymed. She said it stays a while though.” Stiles wraps his legs around Boyd’s hips again and awkwardly urges Boyd closer. “It feels good.”

            Boyd sighs and presses his body into Stiles, “You knew all along didn’t you?”

            “Not until today.” Stiles mutters, and his fingers find the space between their bodies and presses against his hole, “Next time I’m fucking you.”

            Boyd lets out a whimper and his cock jerks again.


End file.
